Rosemary's Granddaughter
by xBlondieMomentsx
Summary: "Cold hard rain. The metal of a gun in my hand. The Anderson boy staring at me with wide eyes. Me or him I keep repeating to myself. Me or him." Set a few months after the book. Rosemary Auliffe is the elderly neighbor of the Curtis brothers, but this story is about her granddaughter. Coming to her after a terrible incident in New York. And how she meets a certain DX worker/Curtis
1. Chapter 1

**Lets not forget the disclaimer, I do not own any of The Outsiders! All the rights go to S.E. Hinton!**

**I only own Miranda, Rosemary, Jude, James, Mike and Max!**

**The Song Rosemary's Granddaughter belongs to Jessica Andrews and her record label and all that! Anything to add boys?**

**Two-bit: yeah you all should definitely read this story!**

**Me: See! Even more reason to read this!**

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**Miranda POV**

It's hard to say when I really considered the fact that my life could've ended. Sure I've been on the chopping block a few times, mostly working on getting Jack out of tight spots…but that Friday night…nothing seemed as surreal as that. It's a week later and I still can't think of it as happening to me. Rather it was a movie. That cold metal placed in my hands, the rain pouring down in sheets so thick that I was soaked just seconds after leaving the house. None of my senses by fear seemed to be working, and after that, just numbness; though that could have been attributed to the fact that I had gotten pneumonia. I'd been sick before with mono, so pneumonia wasn't that different. I still had a few traces. Fatigue mostly.

Mom and dad had been so scared and sobbing because they thought they had children that were out dealing drugs, slumming around. I'm sure they thought I would be telling them any minute how I was pregnant with Hank Anderson's kid. Max had tried to tell them the story of what had really happened, but they wouldn't listen to him. They'd wanted to send him down to Tulsa with us, but he had walked out of that small apartment and never looked back. So they packed up James, Jude, Mike and myself and dropped us off at the bus station. And just like that, we left New York City, headed straight for Tulsa Oklahoma, to live with our grandmother. She was my dad's mom, and because of the massive distance between us, the last time I'd ever seen her was when I was six.

I don't remember much about her, but before Max left, he told me all he could. She was kind, caring, but wouldn't put up with any of our shit. She was firm, but gentle. And she lived with only a dog for company since grandpa had passed away. Oh, and her name. Rosemary.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I feel Jude stir next to me. He's only ten, and he hasn't stopped crying since we left. I know mom and dad would have taken us were they able to, but gas money was tight, our only car was how dad got to work, and neither he nor mom could miss even an hour at their jobs that they held onto by just a string. He looks just like mom, but with dad's dark brown hair. With pale skin, and wide, warm green eyes that reminded you of a meadow at sunset; I knew he was goin' to be a real looker when he got older.

He curls up closer to me, using my arm for a pillow. We share a patchwork wool blanket that's seen much better days. Mike, at fifteen years old, is in the seat next to Jude. He faces away from both of us though, unlike Jude, he's bitter and angry. At Max, our parents, and James; he knows it was partially James's fault this happened, that Max abandoned us – but he's over eighteen, technically he doesn't have to listen – and that our parents gave up on us. I crane my neck and see James spread out on three seats behind us. I frown looking at my twin's black eye. Hank gave him that, but his broken nose…that was from me.

I stare back out the window. It must be around 2 a.m. I look up at the star though. It's odd, but I've never seen them before. The New York lights keep them from ever showing. I have reservations about going to Tulsa, but not like the others. I want to meet my grandmother, get away from the drugs, fights, gang wars, murder and screams of the city. No, my reservations come from the pit of my stomach, hoping this will be different.

There are only a few things I know going into this though. My name is Miranda Auliffe. I'm seventeen years old. I have four brothers. And I am Rosemary's granddaughter, the spittin' image of my father.

**Ponyboy POV**

"Ponyboy! You gotta get up!" Darry yells from the kitchen. I can hear him and Sodapop both making so much noise they could wake the dead. I groan and force myself out of the warm bed. Sunlight is pouring into the room. It's almost peaceful. But just like that, it's gone when Steve and Dally come barging into the house, slamming the door as they do.

I go through the motions of getting ready and when I get into the living room Johnny is already here along with Two-bit. Soda and Steve barely say anything as they hurry to get to work.

"Mornin' Pony." Soda says as he looks for his shoes.

"You're gonna be late." I say, but it's a waste 'cause he's already gone.

Darry comes around the corner. "You know you have to go over to Mrs. Auliffe's today. She needs help moving some stuff around what with her grandkids coming today and all." I nod; Mrs. Auliffe has lived in the same house all her life, I think she was even born there. She lives just a few houses down and she was one of the scariest old women I knew. She wasn't scary cause she looked bad like most. Actually she was petite and had long silver hair. Two-bit says she probably really beautiful once. But she stood at about five foot zero, and could probably kick Dally's ass without much trouble.

She'd been out of town for six months, she got back around early spring and ever since she's gone back to being the grandma of the whole block. One time she caught Johnny sleeping in the lot when she was on her way home from the store, so she made him help her carry her groceries and when they got to her house she made him hot chocolate and let him sleep on her couch.

I wish she'd been there when my parents had passed away. She had always been close with my mother. For how scary she was when you crossed her, that exactly how nice and motherly she was too.

"Yeah Darry, don't worry. Johnny's comin' too."

"Yeah, it's the least I could do. She's always helpin' all us out." Johnny says quietly. "In fact Dally, it wouldn't kill you to help too."

"Yeah right. She's a nice old woman, but I have better things to do." He huffs as he lights a cigarette.

"And what would that be?" Darry asks, pulling on his toolbelt.

"Shoot, don't bother with him, I'll come help, she helped my mom outta a tough spot last month." Two-bit chimes in.

When we get to Mrs. Auliffe's, she's out on the front porch in her rocking chair, with a big book in her lap, and her border collie, Charlie, at her feet. As soon as he sees us he gets up and runs to greet us.

"Well if it isn't the nicest boys on my street." Mrs. Auliffe says, putting down her book and getting up. She doesn't need a cane or anything to help her walk. She says it's 'cause she's going out with a bang.

"Hello Mrs. Auliffe." Johnny says politely to her. She frowns.

"Mrs. Auliffe was my mother in law, I'm Rosemary." She throws back at him. She's told us repeatedly not to call her Mrs. Auliffe, but it feels so odd not addressing her that way. She knows we mean it respectfully. But Mrs. Auliffe was from way up north, Ohio I think. She grew up a lot differently than people down here. Her son Robert lived in New York, and her daughter Maria lived in California. It was kinda sad actually. That her kids wouldn't live near her, or come home to see her.

"Well…Rosemary, we came to help." I say, but it doesn't roll off my tongue. Darry doesn't want us to call her Rosemary because it seems too casual, but she doesn't want us to call her Mrs. Auliffe because she thinks it's boring.

"So what do you need us to do?" Two-bit asks with a smile.

"I gotta get some of these rooms put together. Get things cleared out, get stuff out of the attic." She looked off in the distance. It was easy to tell she was miles away. I really got a look at her face. She had some wrinkles around her mouth and eyes, but none on her forehead, or her cheekbones. And her face was still slender and shaped like it must have been in her youth. Her hair was silver and seemed to reflect blue. But her eyes always stood out, dark brown and almost cold looking, no matter how much she smiled, or laughed. I guess the color there was just too much for her soul.

We spent a good part of the day putting together some bed frames, clearing out her children's room, and mostly goofing off. Rosemary went out to get us lunch since she said she didn't have the time to cook. When she got back, she brought us burgers, fries, and milkshakes. Two-bit would have preferred beer, but she once yelled at him for drinking so much in a lady's presence that now he won't ever show up drunk when he knows she'll be around. Like I said, she was just a bit scary.

"How many grankids you got Rosemary?" Two-bit asks, his mouth full of fries.

"Chew your food before you speak Keith." She doesn't always call him by his real name, but when she's trying to make a point she always does.

"M'Sorry." He says, still with a full mouth. Rosemary just rolls her eyes.

"I got five. Max, he's the oldest, then the twins, Miranda and James, Mike, the middles one, and Jude, the youngest. But those are only Robert's children. Maria has four of her own. All girls though. A handful too."

"Why they comin' to live with you? Somethin' happen to their parents?" Johnny asks. Eyes wide. Everyone knows Rosemary's kids were these perfect children. So no doubt they were great parents.

"No, no, nothin' like that, I think their daddy just realized New York wasn't a place to be raisin' children. Especially where they'd been livin'. I think one of the kids got in some bad fight and got hit on real bad." She seems saddened, but also angered by the thought of it. Whether she's angry at her grandkids or the people who beat them I can't tell.

"When're they getting' here?" I finally ask.

"Late today, maybe early tomorrow." She says it with some finality that clearly means she's done with this conversation. That only makes me more curious. But I respect her privacy on this and keep my mouth shut.

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**Aaannnnnnndddddddddd, this lovely first chapter is finally done. So yeah...took a while**

**This is my first fanfic ever, so please let me know what you think and please don't tear me down.**

**I really hope you guys will like this. I would love to hear what you think and I hope you guys like it.**

**Please review and I will continue this story.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Heres the disclaimer! I do not own the Outsiders! I only own the OC's! Right Two-bit?**

**Two-bit: you got it. Hey is that Mickey on tv?**

**Me: ...**

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Miranda POV

We're at the bus station, this is the last leg of our three day long journey. We probably could've done it in less time, but Jude still doesn't quite get it. Mike keeps putting up fights, and James is just being an asshole. I look in the mirror at myself. The eyeliner is still there, smudged and messy. I look terrible. Pale, massive bags under my eyes, and the deep color there makes me look like the walking dead. I rub away some of the makeup on my cheekbones and my light freckles come out. Mom had smiled and said that they would come out more what with living down south in the summer.

But what really gets me are the things I don't like. The things I make a mental note to change as soon as I get there. The dreadlocks, the purple and pink and blue streaks, and the black hair dye. Despite being the carbon copy of my father, I did get one trait that wasn't his, one that actually belonged to my grandfather and Aunt Maria. Caramel red hair. When I'd first started dating Hank he'd said it was hideous, so I'd started just dying it black. Covering up the blonde, red, auburn and chocolate brown that made it up.

I actually feel like crying at my own appearance. I didn't used to look like this. I didn't look broken, bruised, or scared of my own shadow. I glance at the clock at the wall. We still have four hours till the stupid bus finally shows up. I cringe inwardly. I just want to get to Tulsa already, sleep in a real bed, eat real food, not just takeout. I want Jude to feel safe again. Taking a deep breath, I decide I have enough time to do this.

Turning the knobs of the sink, I make sure the water is pretty hot. Hand soap will have to do. I didn't think to pack shampoo, and I don't even have my bag with me so it don't matter. I pull the dreads down and stick them into the sink.

It takes about two hours. Jude and Mike must be asleep to not come looking for me. My arms are sore, my scalp burns, my fingers are wrinkled, and my jacket is soaked. But when I look in the mirror, I can't stop the small smile from playing up there. The pink, blue, and purple is gone, some of the black faded, and the dreads are gone. My hair actually feels soft and it's curly again. I'll need peroxide or baking soda to remove the rest of the dye, but for now, this is amazing. My chest loosens a bit. At least I can see my grandma without looking like a hood. Or rather, a hood's girlfriend. I rub under my eyes and get most of the eyeliner off. I feel ten pounds lighter looking into the mirror.

I walk back out into the main room of the bus station. They've progressively gotten smaller and smaller. I notice Mike, Jude, and James asleep on one of the benches. Sighing I head out the doors into the fresh air. There are even more stars in the sky than last night and it's amazing. The air here even feels cleaner. Max had told me this was a death sentence...but he and I had never really seen eye to eye...no that was me and James. Sometimes we didn't have to talk to understand each other. The beauty of having a twin I guess. The pack of cigarettes weighs heavy in my coat pocket, but surprisingly, I haven't smoked twice since leaving New York.

Mom and dad didn't know, but I was planning on running away any day. Things in Hank's gang had gone from tough to criminal in those last months. I'd even witnessed that murder. I shake my head. No. I can't think about that. This is a new beginning. I don't have to be tired, hurt, or scared anymore. Tulsa is not New York.

Looking at my hands, I see the scars crisscrossing over the left. I think that was from the time me and James were working on the truck...but I can't be sure...I have so many that remembering them all is too time consuming. Not all are from fights, in fact most are from the fact I'm clumsy as hell. Running a hand through my now beautiful hair, I slide down the wall till I'm sitting. The concrete isn't even cold, it's warm from the promise of summer being right around the corner. School had just gotten out a week ago, and though everyone in Anderson's gang made fun of me for still going to school, I still did. That promise of college seemed to be the only thing keeping me going. James understood. He went to school, he was a star football player. Quarterback even.

"Miss, are you alright?" I shake my head and look at the man. He's black, must be in his sixties at least from the lack of wrinkles, but the presence of white hair. He has soft eyes, and an easy smile. I look down across the street and smile a bit. The left corner of my mouth turning up so slightly.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I say dreamily. He smiles and his eyes crinkle.

"Alright then." He starts whistling and keeps walking down the street. I feel the left corner tug up more and I my smile broadens. I'm okay. I've said the phrase plenty of times, but this time...I actually mean it. I am okay. My chest loosens even more this time. The pit in my stomach shrinks and I feel the right side of my mouth tug upward. I'm actually smiling. And it feels so good, so natural. I can't remember the last time I actually smiled.

This will be good for us. I know it.

Soda POV

"Give up yet?" Steve taunts. But he's losing, so there's no chance I'm giving up.

"Why, getting tired?" I throw back, focusing back on pushing his arm down onto the table. Somehow Two-bit had said he was stronger than Steve and me, and that ended with Steve and him having an arm wrestling match, and Two-bit losing. Though he swears he let Steve win. But somehow it came to me and Steve seeing who could win of the two of us.

"No way in hell." He spits out. A cigarette hanging from the left corner of his mouth. Just then the door slams and I lose my focus...letting Steve hammer my fist right into the wooden coffee table. I groan and Steve immediately starts gloating about how he had it all under control. I turn to the door to see Darry was who slammed the door.

"Thanks a lot for that Darry." I mumble. He just looks at me confused.

"You made him lose the bet." Johnny says looking up from the T.V. He and Two-bit had flipped through all the channels until they found Mickey. Granted there weren't that many on our T.V. but still.

Darry rolls his eyes and heads to the kitchen. We still have chocolate cake from this morning. Just then Pony comes out of our room to see what's going on.

"Pony, I drove by Mrs. Auliffe's, she says you did a real good job today." Darry calls from the kitchen. Shoot, it's not like it's a big deal, if I didn't need to work, I would've gone to help her. Everyone in this neighborhood loves Rosemary.

"Yeah it was nothing, we just helped her get some stuff together and clean out the upstairs rooms." Pony replies with a shrug. That's another thing. She's one of the ten people close by with a two storey house. And she sure kept it in top shape.

"Still, thank you for goin' and helpin' her." Darry says standing in the doorway. Pony just nods. It is a bit weird seeing them get along so well, but Darry really did listen when I begged them to stop fighting.

"She also told me that one of her grandkids is your age. That you two would probably get along real well. His name started with an 'M' I think."

"If they're from New York then we can hope that they aren't Socs." Steve chimes in. Which is unlike him, he's not big on letting new people into the group. I kind of remember her grandkids from the one time they came down here. Not well, just that there are twins. It was so long ago. I'm pretty sure they're greasers...but then again, the line between greaser and hood in New York is pretty fuzzy.

"I hope they're at least nice kids. It might be nice to have some new guys around here." Johnny all but whispers.

"So what if they aren't?" Steve says it more like a statement than a question.

"What if she has a hot granddaughter?" Two-bit says before taking another swig of beer.

"Then I'll fight you for her." Steve replies, tackling Two-bit and they start wrestling around on the floor. Johnny dodges out of their way and Pony just laughs. Darry rolls his eyes and heads off to his room. And before I know it, I'm cheering on Steve.

Miranda POV

It's around 1 p.m. when we finally set foot in Tulsa. The sun is high, and the sky is blue like someone painted it. Jude was practically on the edge of his seat this last ride. And now I can just see his eyes light up and he starts to laugh. It is really beautiful here. Stuck up people might say run down, but so far, the houses I see are already bigger than the apartment we had in New York. My room had been a small bed without a bedframe, and was just haphazardly placed on the floor, with sheets for walls. Mike and Jude had the same arrangement but they shared a bed. Max had the couch and James took the floor. Our parents had the one bedroom. And god was it small. That was Brooklyn life for you though.

"Do we know what she looks like?" James finally asks. Holding his and Jude's bag. Jude is holding on tight to my hand. I look around. From what dad told me, she was super pretty, had the same eyes as me, and long silver hair. Oh and that she would be driving a pickup. From the gist of it I got that she had a lot of money. I know she offered to help us out once when I was little, but my dad and Aunt Maria were stubborn and prideful people. He wouldn't even take money from his own mother.

"Mmm...not sure." I say scanning the crowds. I can hear Mike whistle.

"I gotta say, mom wasn't lying when she said this place was beautiful." He says with a slight hint of awe. It lifts my spirits even more, knowing that he is somewhat accepting of this place.

"Maybe she doesn't know we're here." James says, somewhat distantly.

"We could call Dad, or Mom, they could call her...ya know, since they forgot to give us her number." Mike retorts. But I shake my head.

"I have her address, so if we have to we'll walk. But we can't call home, no one will be there." I do the time change in my head. But I'm pretty sure they're still at work. "Besides, it won't kill us to wait a bit." I say.

Mike and James go to sit down and Jude follows, taking my bag. I decide to go look around. See if I can find her. How many beautiful grandma's could be milling around here with a massive pickup?

I walk around a bit, but still don't see her. I do however see some nicely dressed, pristine Socs. I make a mental note that Socs and Greasers are really the only two kinds here. Hoods like the ones in New York are rare. They're here, but rare. By the time I get back, it's been a good hour. Jude now looks a little worried. Mike is pretending to be nonchalant. James is doing a pretty good job of keeping them calm though. I sometimes forget that he has that caring protective nature. I know he has it, cause we're basically the same person and we know everything about each other. But he learned how to cover all those emotions up so only his family could see. That was a New York side effect. I had never perfected that act though.

"She's, she's definitely coming, right?" Jude asks, his voice shaking just a bit. James smiles and nudges Jude's knee with his own.

"Of course she is bud, I bet time just got away from her." He leans in to whisper loudly, "You know how old people are." This gets a smirk out of Mike. Jude smiles but gets up to hold my hand again. But five minutes later, we see a burgundy pickup come driving down the street, and I just know it's her. The engine is deafening, and it's mud splattered. Like it hadn't been cleaned in years.

It pulls to a stop - none too slowly - and once the engine dies, a petite woman steps out. She's got some added height from the heels of her cowgirl boots, but even Mike must be taller than her. I know I definitely am. Me and James got our father's height. I stood at about five foot nine. James was six foot four.

She really is beautiful. Her face is almost non wrinkles except around the eyes and mouth, my guess would be from laughing so much. Her hair is silver, but instead of being cut short it's long and beautiful. She looks around and when she spots us, her dark eyes light up. I imagine that's what Aunt Maria would look like if she smiled. She raises her hand and waves slightly to us. I can see she's hesitant. However, Jude sure isn't. He sees her wave and runs to her. Without even hesitating, he throws his arms around her waist and hugs her tight. She smiles wide and hugs him back.

"So...you're our grandma?" Mike asks slowly. I see something flash in her eyes but its gone without a trace.

"That would be me. And I'd know that blonde hair anywhere, Michael." She says with a wink. Mike looks taken aback. But I guess she would remember us. Just like I'd remember my parents, my cousins, my siblings, without much trouble. We were her family. Even if we had a real shatty way of showing it. She looks us over, and I can see the confusion cloud her eyes. I know what's coming.

"Where's Max?"

"He uh, didn't come with us." I manage. I don't trust my voice to elaborate more than that though. But Rosemary just nods and claps her hands.

"Well, his loss. Now go on, get in the truck. I can only manage how tired y'all are." And just like that, I feel almost all the pressure ease off chest. The coil around my heart coming undone. She doesn't care what happened, she doesn't care we haven't seen her in years, she only cares that we're here.

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**So I FINALLY got chapter two done. It was just hard to get my mind in the zone.**

**And guess what, next chapter, Soda and Miranda finally meet!**

**And then the plot finally gets rolling. This is still a romance, but whats gonna happen when trouble from New York follows the Auliffe siblings down to Tulsa?**


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